Hello,
It’s back.
Oh god, it is back. That sensation of glowing inner combustion. I thought it had finally dissipated and crumbled into the black mud of my past. No longer to be anything other than depleted clay, stretched over a skin canvas of scarlet flesh mounds. Yet here I sit typing again. Oh my god, here I am again, in the enveloping darkness. I prayed and begged you to release me from this torment. And in return, you disguised my sentence with a cloak of love. Put my deepest insecurities up for adoption by alien morticians. The cruelest form of punishment one could ever experience. Why? Why would you send me perfect love, only to highlight my shortcomings as a human? Have I not been put through my paces as a spirit? I remember your words, “You are not ready yet, you don’t have enough scars.” When will my pain satisfy you? It has been five years. Please notify me at your slightest convenience of when my anima shall finally smolder with cooled hues of grayed vapor plumage. Add forth a second choice of pleasure and pain again. And see my decision as honest and heartfelt this time. I do not wish for pain anymore. All is precious and I am satisfied with my seat in existence. Forgive the choices of my prior self. Utter foolishness reaks through the clogged pig trots of my attitude.
God, the unspeakable dismay I am capable of impregnating myself with. None like any of you could ever imagine. I cannot share many details of my burning, but I can express them to you in the form of poetry. Please read, any and all who may care.
“If soul journies for perfect corpulence, Corpulence repels like depravity acting upon a starving child’s stomach.
If love falls from heavenly grace, Grace drowns the heart in frigid water sourced from frozen hell springs.
If choice offers itself to you, You are certain to schedule a seat at God’s unforgiving leisure.
And should that decision be struck, Strike one for pleasure. For even pain is out of reach for the heavenly father.
Of pleasure and pain, tempt me as a mistress of cool October witches brew. Witches have the ability to disguise themselves as a god. “
The choice is yours to make. Sway clear of those offered to you on a silver platter.
Dan
